


Second Date

by Desiree_Harding



Series: Canon compliant Taakitz [1]
Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canon Fill In, Early Relationship, Fluff, M/M, No Angst, Second Date, look it's taako and Kravitz on their second date what else can I say, ok wait the smallest angst, post refuge pre wonderland
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-21
Updated: 2019-04-21
Packaged: 2020-01-23 04:29:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18542296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Desiree_Harding/pseuds/Desiree_Harding
Summary: We saw the date at the Chugg n' Squeeze, but how do you get from there to the Day of Story and Song? Taako and Kravitz's second date that we didn't see.





	Second Date

**Author's Note:**

> No warnings here, folks! Just a cute Taako and Kravitz being cute time!

*~*~*~*~*

 

The thing is, the fuckin’ Director has been drilling them half to death in training, and Taako is bone-fucking tired.

And the thing is, they have no idea when their next mission is going to be.

And the thing is, Kravitz looked _really_ _good_ in his suit at the Chugg n’ Squeeze with a wine glass in his hand, and Taako can’t get the picture out of his mind.

And the thing is, Taako wants to get  _ the fuck off the moonbase for five goddamn seconds _ .

And Kravitz hasn’t called him in the two weeks since their almost-date, and Taako’s starting to think he wasn’t clear enough about the fact that he’s a person, and Kravitz is a person, and Taako likes Kravitz’s face and was willing to sit and talk to him for an hour and a bit after their “business meeting” was technically done, and he wants to see him again.

And  _ the thing is _ , Kravitz’s face when he asked if Taako called him to a fucking wine and pottery place for  _ business or pleasure _ made it clear as day that  _ he _ wanted to see  _ Taako _ again. Taako  _ knows _ the guy wants to. Anyone would, really, Taako’s a catch.

So why he isn’t calling Kravitz, the very handsome man who likes him very much, whose stone frequency he has ready any time, is very much beyond him.

It’s stupid, really, sitting on his bed, feet dangling above the ground, dressed in training clothes, staring at the stone of farspeech in his hand, thinking of Kravitz but not  _ thinking  _ of Kravitz in case it accidentally dials.

And fuck this. This is stupid. Taako calls him.

The stone glows faintly for a few moments, and Taako’s heart stops when he thinks Kravitz might answer and then starts up again as he thinks that he probably won’t.

_ Taako? _

And suddenly everything kicks into high gear.

“Uh, hey my man,” Taako says, trying to sound nonchalant, laying back on the bed, “kind of presumptuous to assume it’s me, isn’t it?”

Kravitz gives a sort of awkward half-chuckle, almost kind of sad, and Taako hates that –

_ Well _ , he says,  _ your stone is the… the only one mine is attuned to, so… _

“Hell yeah,” Taako says, “get some of that good Taako brand up in your life, my dude, I get it.”

Another chuckle, just as nervous as the first, and Kravitz quietly agrees,  _ yeah _ .

And then there’s a long, horrible, awkward silence in which Taako feels so terribly, uncomfortably bare and  _ hates it _ and he wants to hang up and back up and fucking  _ end this horrible fucking conversation, what was he thinking _ –

_ Was there uh… was there something you needed? _ Kravitz asks, knocking Taako out of his paralysis. And suddenly he’s too tired to be coy.

“You free anytime soon, my dude?” he asks, plainly. And blessedly, Kravitz seems to understand.

_Oh_ , he says, his voice just a touch brighter, _well, right now I’m sort of just… doing paperwork and the like, I won’t be on a bounty for a while, I don’t think, so I’m – yes, Taako, I’m free. Anytime. For the next few days, probably? I mean my Queen might call me to her at any time really, but I – yes. I am._ _Did you – did you have something in mind?_

If Taako wasn’t so tired, and if he hadn’t seen so much goddamn weird shit, he thinks he would be prouder of being able to tie  _ The Grim Reaper _ into awkward, stammering knots, but he’s also met the Grim Reaper, and he’s a massive gay disaster and a huge nerd that turns himself into crystal monsters when he needs to kill people just for the  _ drama  _ of it all, so really, there’s not that much to be proud of there.

(He’s still a little proud.)

“Well,” Taako says, trying to sound breezy, “you able to cut holes to other places on this plane with that cool stick of yours?”

Kravitz laughs.  _ I am _ .

“Then unless it’s against some of your weird bird mom’s rules, how about you come by tonight and get ‘chaboy the _fuck_ off the moon, huh? Taako could use a break.”

_ Are you calling me for my help with transportation alone, or am I invited on this little outing? _

“That depends on where you take us, bone boy.”

_ I’ll take that as a yes _ , Kravitz says, good-natured.  _ It sounds lovely. Is dinner good for you? What time should I come by? _

“Gimme an hour?” Taako says, “and hell yeah, my dude, I’m over this shitty cafeteria food.”

_ Okay _ , Kravitz says, and he sounds so happy that Taako can’t help but smile a little bit.  _ I’ll see you in an hour then, Taako _ . _ Take care _ .

“Bye,” Taako says, and the stone goes dark. Take care. What an idiot. Taako is going to see him in an  _ hour _ , and is currently sitting on an impenetrable moon base warded with fuck-knows-what.

But, given his track record, an hour could be the difference between the end of the world or not. He thinks it’s not unreasonable to expect weird shit to happen at any time. He thinks maybe Kravitz knows that. And then he thinks he might not mind going out with a guy who bothers to tell him to take care for an hour.

He gets up off the bed, takes a quick shower to wash the day off, and then, towel around his waist, hunts for an outfit that’s not gross, sweaty training clothes. Something for a night out on the town, which Taako hasn’t had in a criminally long time. Literally, he thinks bitterly, looking at his meager collection of clothes. Almost everything he owns now is fairly utilitarian, and it’s not that Taako isn’t a fucking style icon, natch, but it’s also that… without a TV show he stopped needing things that were quite so flashy. And flip-wizard or not, certain things get in the way when one has to go out adventuring. Time and necessity had worn his wardrobe down to the bare essentials before joining the bureau, and since then what cash he has goes toward the Fantasy Costco, which doesn’t exactly carry Fantasy Gucci.

So Taako’s in a bit of a bind.

He ends up with something presentable, a nice high-necked shirt with sheer sleeves dripping in fabric that comes in at the wrist, a pair of pants that shows off his figure and doesn’t have holes or scorch marks or stains (and he notes that he  _ really _ needs to do laundry). Good, sensible hoops for the ears, and a long, gold necklace with some vague crystal hanging off it. A funny touch, he thinks, looking in the mirror and remembering how he and Kravitz met. He looks good, likes the way the shirt shows off his arms.

He’s just deciding what to do with his hair when his stone crackles from where he left it on the bed.

_ Taako? _ Comes Kravitz’s voice, a bit muffled among the bedding.  _ Sorry I’m late, I just, I realized I never asked you where you wanted me to pick you up from, and I didn’t know if I should just… portal into your quarters or… _ Taako suppresses his laugh as Kravitz trails off awkwardly, walks to the bed and picks up the stone.

“Yeah, probably not a good idea to freak out the boner squad like that,” he says, enjoys the way Kravitz sputters at the name, “here,” he says, carrying on, “gimme five more minutes to get upstairs and I can meet you on the quad, my man. That good with you?”

_ That sounds lovely _ , Kravitz says, and then, quickly,  _ see you _ .

Taako ends up just braiding his hair over one shoulder. Never let it be said he tried too hard for a second date.

 

*~*~*~*~*

 

Even having seen it happen several times before, Taako still just about jumps out of skin at the fabric-tearing sound that announces Kravitz’s portal. He turns around in time to see the man himself step through, watch the portal seal up behind him seemingly of its own accord.

And then Taako has to keep himself from smiling like an idiot and staring at Kravitz.

Because he looks  _ really good _ in that suit.

And isn’t it kind of funny that Taako can’t tell if he wore it as work clothes or if those are his date clothes.

Probably both. Hell, they’re probably not even  _ real _ .

_ Don’t think about it too hard,  _ he thinks. And it’s easy not to when Kravitz is smiling at him like that.

“Hello, Taako,” Kravitz says, a little stiff and a little formal, and somehow like the shapes of the words feel strange in his mouth. Taako even feels his smile grow as he can hear a little hint of that god-awful fake fantasy cockney in there. Kravitz seems to notice too, because he makes a displeased sort of face, and Taako laughs.

“Hey, my man,” he says, leaning on his umbrella. He’d slung it over his arm out of instinct on his way out the door, and it was only by the time he’d gotten up to the grassy quad that he’s remembered the incident on their last date where the Umbra Staff had tried to blast Kravitz to kingdom come. But by then, there hadn’t been any time to go back.

And maybe Taako has a hard time letting go of it. Sue him if he wants to be protected when he goes out. With his luck, they might even need to use it.

“You um, you look very nice,” Kravitz says, and Taako could swear this guy’s got stars in his eyes just looking at him right here. And Taako’s been stared at before by loads of people, made a living off it, except he usually doesn’t  _ give a shit _ . He can feel himself giving a shit with Kravitz’s eyes on him, and he’s not even so much staring as just… enjoying the looking. He almost wants Kravitz to stop. Except he really doesn’t

_ Fuck _ he’s out of practice, isn’t he?

So he responds with “natch. Back at you,” like it means nothing in the world even though Kravitz looks  _ really fuckin good _ , and he keeps leaning on the staff and says, “so you gonna get me the fuck out of here or do I need to call a cannonball?”

Kravitz looks utterly bewildered. “A cannonball?”

“Obvi, dude, that’s how we get around around here.” Kravitz is looking at him like he’s saying something very distressing.

“You travel… by cannonball.” He says, and then, “does that actually mean – I mean is that a  _ thing?” _

“Oh my  _ gods _ , I’m dying. We’ll talk about it planetside, okay, now let’s  _ go.  _ Taako is one-hundo-percent _ done  _ with this place,” Taako says, letting a little whine sneak into his voice.

“Oh, right,” Kravitz says, visibly shaking his head to clear his thoughts before he takes his scythe and makes a long vertical swipe in the air, and bam. There’s a rift in time and space. Kravitz moves to step through, and then hesitates. He looks at Taako for a minute, seems to do some mental arithmetic, and extends his arm to Taako, noncommittal, undemanding, but open.

“Shall we?” he says, a bit nervous. And Taako, trying not to think about what it means, thinks  _ what the hell,  _ and links his arm through Kravitz’s.

“Lead the way, my man,” he says, and Kravitz leads him forward to where Taako can see the Ethereal plane. They step through, and the rift zips up behind them with a snap, and Kravitz cuts them another.

Taako steps through the second rift and is immediately hit with a wave of warm, humid air.

Not the kind of hot that Refuge was, and not the kind of humid that will leave Taako’s hair in a  _ state _ if he doesn’t tie it up, but an absolute, definite change from the moon.

The second thing that hits him is the sound of waves sneaking up and down the sand of a shoreline, a sound that seems to hit him somewhere deep in his subconscious and strip all the tension right out of his shoulders and puts twice as much breath in his lungs.

Kravitz has brought him to the beach.

A beach town, to be specific. Because there’s not just the sound of waves, the warm golden light of the sun, a few hours from setting. There’s also the sound of shouts of children in the street, of vendors selling their wares. There’s throaty singing and string music spilling out from seaside bars and restaurants, and the air is full of the smell of saltwater and bright, sharp spices, of popping oil and wood burning.

Kravitz has brought him to the main strip of a beach town.

“Where are we?” he says, because he’s thoroughly charmed, and he can’t help but ask.

“Don’t quote me, but I think it’s called something like Ǽirenostaar” Kravitz says, and when Taako doesn’t recognize the language, and shoots Kravitz a questioning look, Kravitz just smirks at him and raises an eyebrow. “Surely you didn’t think Faerun was the only continent on the planet?”

Taako has to laugh.

“Gods  _ damn _ ,” he says, looking around again, and yep, now he can see it, how this place is different from where he’s used to living, in little ways. The way the buildings are made (mostly stucco and a dark, twisted wood) and the fashions (loose, colorful as a flowerbed, heavily embroidered in some cases, others closer to Faerun’s fashion) and the climate. “You always take a guy halfway around the world for dinner?”

“Well, more like a quarter,” Kravitz says, and Taako only now notices he hasn’t got his scythe anymore. “And not so much around as just more  _ South _ . And besides,” Taako likes the sound of the mischievous smile in his voice, “you said you wanted a change of scenery.”

_ Well shit _ , Taako sure did say that didn’t he? He hadn’t expected Kravitz to go so  _ far  _ though. It’s a surprise, if not an unwelcome one. It kind of makes him feel like Kravitz is trying to impress him.

It feels nice to know somebody thinks you’re worth impressing, he thinks. It’s been too long.

“Is it too much?” Kravitz says beside him, suddenly nervous. “I’m sorry, we can go back somewhere in Faerun if you’re more comfortable.”

“Don’t you  _ fucking dare, _ ” Taako says, tightening his grip on Kravitz’s arm. “We’re fucking staying here now. Fuck the Bureau, Taako’s gonna  _ live here _ .”

Kravitz laughs, and it makes a little warmth bloom in Taako’s chest. Gods. He likes Kravitz too much for having known him for maybe a collective four hours. For like half of those Kravitz was trying to kill him too. And Taako doesn’t just  _ like _ people like this, not right away like he does with Kravitz. But everything about Kravitz is… unexpected.

And Now Taako is hanging onto his arm as they wander out of the little alley Kravitz portaled them to onto the main street, like he’s known him forever, and simultaneously like he doesn’t know him at all.

It looks mostly like a collection of restaurants and small shops, with stalls crammed everywhere they can fit, the street completely filled with only foot traffic, and vendors of food and goods shouting out to the passerby. Like a chaotic cross between an open-air market and an outdoor shopping mall and an ancient village. It’s bright and  _ new _ and  _ different _ and Taako can’t keep the smile off his face. He pulls Kravitz along as he starts to wander into the crowd.

Taako hadn’t realized how  _ hungry _ he is after training all afternoon, but he finds himself so taken with the smells of the street food that he pulls Kravitz to the first stall on their left, perusing the wares from a hearty-looking woman behind the makeshift counter, before pointing to a dumpling-like fried thing, and the woman dishes up two, one for each of them.

And Taako, for just one moment, remembers that he doesn’t have any money.

There’s hardly a second of awkwardness as he freezes, because Kravitz is digging for a little pouch in the pocket of his suit jacket, and shaking out a few gold coins, passing them over to the woman with something muttered in a tone of thanks in that strange language Taako doesn’t know.

It would take too long to cast comprehend language on  _ all  _ these people, and he doesn’t have the slots.  _ Ugh _ . Guess he’ll have to let Kravitz do the talking. They walk away from the stall, back into the main drag, and Taako takes a bite of the dough pocket.

It’s  _ very _ good, spicy and savory in just the right way. Kravitz seems bemused by his for a moment, and it occurs to Taako –

“Haven’t eaten in a while, homie?” he quips, and Kravitz looks…  _ adorably _ embarrassed for a moment.

“Well,” he says, “it’s not like I need to, being dead.” He takes a bite, hums in appreciation.

“Let me ask you something else, then,” Taako says as Kravitz chews, the motion just a  _ little _ foreign. Gods, how long  _ has  _ it been? Taako wants to ask about  _ that _ . He doesn’t. He keeps it light. “You always pay street vendors in gold coins? I thought her eyes were going to fall right out of her face when you pulled that.”

Kravitz chuckles at that.

“I collect quite the fortune from my bounties,” he says, “and I have so little to use it on. Might as well take away the worry of making a healthy profit for a few people tonight.”

Taako can… weirdly appreciate that.

They walk with their food, stopping along the way at a stall of a glassblower with beautiful, colored wall hangings and what looks like wind chimes in stained glass all colors of the rainbow. And then they stop at a painter’s stall next to that, and Kravitz spends a long minute looking at a painting of fiery red trees and talking about the composition of it in ways Taako’s not quite up on, and that’s how Taako learns that Kravitz is an art guy. It’s cute on him, the way he cocks his head to study the brush strokes and the way he leans in and his eyes light up at an interesting detail in the background.

And by then they’ve finished their dumplings, and there’s another stall selling hot soups in cups and warm bread and Taako takes some for each of them, different kinds, and he burns his tongue on it and laughs at Kravitz when he gets all concerned about it. He cradles his cup in his hands and blows on it as they keep walking through the open market.

They carry on that way, visiting the stalls of vendors of all kinds, clothes and pottery (Taako points to a slightly misshapen vase at one and teases Kravitz about his “performance” on their last date and Kravitz blames the coldness of his hands, which is  _ nothing _ ) and art and jewelry and all kinds of things, picking up a different kind of street food every five or so. It’s all delicious and the smells waft together in the air as they go. Taako likes the jewelry stalls, the stones he hasn’t seen and the ones he has, and the artisans who line their stalls with glass jewelry in beautiful colors, something that seems the fashion here.

Kravitz buys him a pair of earrings in bright turquoise glass with silver flecks in it, and a silken scarf in a deep fuchsia with gold and silver embroidery that Taako draped around his shoulders on a whim and then felt sorry he’d have to take off. When Taako protests, perfunctory (he likes getting shit for free, he  _ doesn’t _ like Kravitz trying to… stake a  _ claim _ to him), Kravitz waves him off.

“It would have been criminal to let you be parted from it,” he says, smiling. The scarf is soft where it drapes loosely over Taako’s shoulders. “And you know how I feel about criminal activity.”

It’s such a bad joke it’s not even a joke, really at all, and Taako rolls his eyes and walks away like he’s going to leave Kravitz behind. He waits at the next food stall and gets Kravitz an extra fritter.

The thing is, it’s a  _ good _ date. It’s low pressure, just wandering around a market. It’s dinner, like Kravitz said, but it’s improvised in the best way.

He learns that Kravitz has a sweet tooth when they stop at a stall selling some kind of donut-like treat just  _ covered _ in crystallized sugar. He coaxes Kravitz into loosening up and vanishing his jacket, so he’s down to the dark waistcoat and dress shirt which, even though the sleeves aren’t rolled up, still looks  _ great _ on him. He finds out that Kravitz really  _ is _ a music nerd when they pass a stall in which a kind bearded man is selling handmade stringed instruments. Taako  _ does _ cast comprehend languages for that one, and still doesn’t know what they’re saying. But Kravitz lights up talking about it, and Taako doesn’t even really mind watching that much, even when he can’t much join in.

It’s a  _ good _ date. The sun is shining down so brightly on all of them below, and Taako basks in the warmth of the sun and snacks on whatever purchase tickles their fancy, and for a moment, it’s almost like he isn’t him. Like he’s a different Taako, one without the Bureau or the threat of world annihilation hanging over his head. Not even a Taako who had a cooking show. Not a Taako who was a murderer and then wasn’t. Just an elf on a date with a nice guy.

The distance away and the sound of the ocean and hubbub of the crowd washes all of that away until Taako feels like he could be anything, and most importantly, feels  _ normal _ .

That is, for a while.

At one of the stalls, as they’re getting their food, Kravitz asks Taako, innocent as anything, “didn’t you say you used to be a chef?”

Taako’s throat tightens.

“Sorry, my dude,” he says, throwing on a winning smile, “you’re not privy to that part of Taako’s backstory until at least date three.”

Kravitz doesn’t comment on date three, just smiles a little bit and studies Taako for a second with those stunningly insightful eyes of his. Taako wonders if Kravitz can see into his soul. He probably can. 

Kravitz smiles, much warmer than Taako’s, and says, “fair enough,” and Taako’s heartbeat slows, and he tries to breathe because it’s not ‒

It’s not even that he’s  _ guilty  _ anymore, he just ‒ he  _ likes _ Kravitz, he likes him too much ‒ and they’re having a good night, and he doesn’t want to weigh it down with ‒ all that. Besides, Taako opened up last time. He deserves ‒ he deserves one good night.

Kravitz doesn’t push it, thankfully, and even that moment of awkwardness is a minor blip in the evening as they move on, near-seamlessly, Kravitz dropping the subject in a way that seems almost instinctual.

They end up just sitting on a stone wall overlooking the beach proper, once they’ve tired of the food and the wares. Children run and splash in the shallow water, ruining their clothes while their parents look on with well-meaning, long-suffering eyes. The sun is setting over the water, now, the colors brighter and deeper than in the silk around Taako’s neck, and reflected on the water until it looks like it could go on forever. The path down to the beach is on Taako’s left, and Kravitz his right, and the sound of the waves fills his ears and the breeze from the water fills his lungs and his stomach sits full, almost too full, of greasy street food.

Kravitz as somehow kept his white shirt perfectly clean despite the grease and broth and sauce they’ve consumed tonight in so many less-than sturdy containers, and Taako kind of admires it and kind of thinks it’s dorky how much care he takes with his appearance.

He also really kind of appreciates it.

“Pretty bold of you, my man, wearing white to a dinner date,” he teases, and Kravitz’s brow furrows for the second before he gets the joke, and then he chuckles.

“I hadn’t even thought about it,” he says honestly, leaning back on his hands. “To be honest, I didn’t have a particular establishment picked out for dinner. I was hoping something would tickle our fancy. I’m glad you went for the food truck idea. Much more fresh air that way.” Taako catalogues the fact in his mind.  _ Kravitz likes fresh air _ .

“Wingin’ it?” Taako says. The layers of formality from earlier in the evening have long since fallen away now, giving way to a conversation that is… surprisingly easy. All of their conversation is easier than most of Taako’s but this ‒ this is  _ still more _ . Taako thinks that maybe in the weeks between the Chugg n’ Squeeze and now, he’s forgotten how easy Kravitz is to talk to. “Doesn’t seem like you.” He says, fixing his eyes on Kravitz.

Kravitz squirms under Taako’s eye.

“I would… ideally be more prepared for a… well.” Funny that  _ death  _ can get so flustered, Taako thinks. “But I didn’t have a ton of time and I… I haven’t been here in a while.”

All of Taako’s concentration is pulled to  _ that _ little treasure trove of information in that sentence. What can he say? He’s nosy. And Kravitz is a  _ very _ interesting subject. Not everyone can say they’re being shown around on the Grim Reaper’s arm in their free time.

“Oh dip, you know this place?” He asks. Obviously digging.

“Sort of.” Kravitz says, mildly. “I grew up here. Or, well. Around here.”

“You did?” Taako thought maybe it would be… he doesn’t know… a story from a bounty or something. He didn’t know Kravitz was going to take him to his  _ hometown _ .

“Mhm. Nothing like this back then.” Kravitz answers.

“How long ago was it?”

“I thought it wasn’t polite to ask people’s ages.” He’s got a twinkle in his eye, looking sideways at Taako, and a quirk in his lip. He’s amused. Taako likes being the one who made him so.

“Oh, come on, Krav. I gotta know exactly what kinda old-man I’m hittin’ up here.” Taako prods, because he’s a curious soul, and because… well. He wants to  _ know _ about Kravitz. Usually he doesn’t care enough about anybody to ask things of them like this. He supposes Kravitz is an exception to that rule.

He’ll tell himself that it’s because of the Grim Reaper thing, not because he’s smitten. Taako doesn’t  _ get _ smitten. And besides, this is for fun.

Kravitz’s laugh is inelegant and lovely, though, as he digests Taako’s words.

“Well,” he says, “I may be off by a few years, but by my count I was born right along this stretch of coast about… oh… maybe three thousand years ago?”

“Three  _ thousand _ , Krav?” Hot damn, that’s old. Taako expected old, but not  _ that _ old.

But he’s the Grim Reaper. He’s a figure from antiquity, he’s a legend. A fairytale. Taako isn’t sure  _ what _ he expected. But three thousand years old… that’s.

“See this is why I didn’t feel like telling you.” Kravitz says, no doubt reacting to…  _ whatever  _ he sees on Taako’s face, and Taako very quickly schools his expression into something less… flabbergasted, perhaps?

“Hot damn…” he says, and then, because he doesn’t know what to say and because he’s curious, “how much of that have you been dead for?”

“oh well, let’s see,” Kravitz says, looking up to the sky in thought. “It was so long ago…I think I died when I was maybe… around thirty? It’s hard to remember.”

“ _ Damn _ .” Taako says, a bit awed. Kravitz maybe looks a little uncomfortable. “You’ve been working for the Raven Queen that long?”

“I have,”  _ shit _ , he  _ definitely  _ looks uncomfortable. Taako feels kind of bad, in a distant sort of way, scrambles to make up for it, and is surprised that he’s scrambling.

“Well, you, uh –” he stalls, trying to think of the perfect thing to say to wipe that awkward scrunch from Kravitz’s brow, and the tense hold of his shoulders away, “you don’t look a day over 30, my man.”

Kravitz chuckles, just a little bit, looser, but not quite loose yet, and Taako feels  _ awful _ for spoiling the moment. Gods, like this, Kravitz just looks like a normal human man, save the red eyes. Taako thinks of him in life, thinks of him here, thinks of him young and thinks that even though it was long, long ago, Kravitz was a  _ person _ once. He was a man, regular and human, probably thinking he’d make it a little bit past 50 if he was really lucky. And then he was picked up by a goddess and strung out for over a thousand years, twice as long as any elf lives, and now he’s sitting up on a wall in a beach town, and he took Taako halfway around the world to impress him because –

Because he was probably lonely? Because he likes Taako that much?

How long has it been since Kravitz has been on a date? A few years? A few hundred?

Gods, Kravitz  _ is  _ a person. Kravitz is a  _ man _ . Taako hadn’t realized he’d been thinking of him a bit like a toy until now.

Kravitz is a person, and a person who’s probably seen more things than anyone alive. Or dead. Kravitz is a person, was mortal once, had a mortal soul, but can’t be called as much anymore, can he, in part because he can’t die, and in part because he’s… he’s  _ seen _ more than anyone has ever seen, second only to the gods.

He’s one of a kind, no one and nothing in the  _ universe  _ like him, perhaps, but still just a  _ person _ , like Taako is a person, and for a second the knowledge suffocates him.

And then Taako takes a breath, and is back on the beach, and on an impulse, takes Kravitz’s hand.

Maybe it’s because he feels for him, being alone for so long. Maybe it’s because he wants to feel how much of a person he is. Maybe it’s because he liked the feeling of Kravitz’s arm linked through his as they wandered the beachy streets together, stall to stall with the street cooks and artists, and he wants a little taste of it again.

Whatever possesses him to do so, he takes Kravitz’s hand. And Kravitz looks surprised for a second, at the sudden contact. Looks at their hands, and then looks at Taako, and Taako pretends not to notice it, keeping his eyes fixed out at the sea instead of at Kravitz,  _ anywhere _ but Kravitz.

His heart is beating so quickly, and Taako doesn’t  _ feel _ like this. He gets this way on adventures, sure, because who  _ wouldn’t _ be nervous on the kind of shit that Taako has to go through? But he doesn’t usually get this way with people. Being nervous means you care what people think of you.

Taako doesn’t care about other people.

But he’s holding Kravitz’s hand, just a small point of contact between them, Kravitz’s hand icy in his. And it’s  _ nice _ . Nicer than Taako would care to admit.

Kravitz’s hand is soft, his construct skin free of calluses or scars. Not like Taako’s, from years of cooking, and now slinging spells. Taako supposes it can get that way when you’re constantly remaking your body from the ether.

“I’m sorry it’s so cold,” Kravitz says beside him, a little quiet and weird.

“S’okay,” Taako replies, because it is. And then, “I’m kinda into it.”

Kravitz says no more to that, just squeezes Taako’s hand, and Taako takes a second to consider before he scoots himself right up against Kravitz on the wall, sitting a breath away and leaning his head against Kravitz’s shoulder. Not  _ on _ it, just  _ against _ it. Still plenty of room to move away. Their clasped hands rest atop Taako’s thigh.

He can feel the surprise in Kravitz’s body, murmurs, a bit sleepy with all the food in his belly,

“This ok?”

Kravit inhales uselessly for a second. And when he speaks again, his voice is so soft.

“Yes,” he says, “more than ok.”

They stay like that until the sun goes down.

Even as Kravitz is cutting the rift to take Taako back to the Bureau, Taako doesn’t let go of his hand. They arrive back on the quad, and already the brightness of the beach town is fading away. He thinks Kravitz can feel it too, the heaviness that suddenly takes the air. Taako stands, not for a long moment, but certainly for a  _ medium _ one, on the grass of the quad, just searching Kravitz’s face.

“I have to get up early tomorrow for training,” he says.

“I figured,” Kravitz answers, looking so sincere, because he doesn’t know that Taako always sleeps in and shows up late, does he? He wouldn’t. Taako hasn’t told him. Taako wants to tell him. Taako wants to tell him everything.

And then Taako blinks.

And Kravitz is just a handsome man, looking at him in the low light, waiting for something to happen.

Taako squeezes his hand, makes his excuses, says his goodbyes with a hair flip and a dazzling smile, tells Kravitz not to hesitate to call if he wants to help Taako play hooky halfway around the world again, and then Kravitz laughs, and then Kravitz is gone.

When Taako gets back to the dorm, he leans against his door as it shuts, letting out a sigh, working his shoes off his feet, the aches and exhaustion of training hitting him again with no sweet rush of ocean air or soft, cold skin to distract him, and he pads across the room and flops, face-first onto the bed.

For the space of a second, he lies there, something terrible and  _ lonely _ setting deep and heavy in his chest until he can’t breathe.

And then, just as quickly as it appeared, it passes, and Takko turns over to lie on his back and stare at the ceiling in the dark.

His hand goes to the scarf still draped loosely around his neck, tangled around him now. His fingers trace the rougher embroidery of the metallic thread, the pretty fringe on the hems.

And Taako  _ smiles. _

 

*~*~*~*~*

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I really appreciate it! If you liked it, leave a kudos or a comment or both, and maybe go check out some of my other works on here?  
> My tumblr for fic and for taz is @desiree-harding-fic if you wanna go check that out, too! I always want to make new friends and talk about taz!


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